


More Than Just a Hint

by ice23hot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Pregnancy, Romance, they frustrate me so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 16:16:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3775180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ice23hot/pseuds/ice23hot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A pregnant Jemma finds herself craving a certain kind of sandwich. Fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Just a Hint

For as long as she could remember, Jemma had been a morning person. No matter how late she went to sleep, she always seemed to rise with the sun. Something about the way the faint orange rays peeked through the blinds in the early morning was massively comforting; the sun was constant, calculable, just like science. She could depend on it.

And while she enjoyed rising early and getting a productive start on the day, 3 A.M was definitely pushing it.

She groaned slightly, squinting across the room at Leo’s alarm clock to confirm the God-awful hour. It was 3:12, and she was wide awake. All day she had been exhausted; everyone had tried to press her into taking a nap, but she was adamant about getting her work done. She should have easily been able to sleep through the night. Just as she was about to roll back towards her slumbering husband and try to snatch a few more hours’ sleep, a loud internal growl suddenly revealed why she had woken up so suddenly: she was hungry. In fact, she had never been this hungry in her entire life.

Jemma couldn’t help but roll her eyes at herself and she attempted to sit up. These last few weeks she had been a bottomless pit, impressing even her husband, who was known for his passion for eating. Sitting in the dark room, Jemma tried to figure out was she was craving. Lately it had been anything salty or vaguely crunchy, but she was feeling a bit different this morning.

To her left, Fitz rolled over and let out a contented sigh as he curled up into himself even further. Jemma smirked and fought back the urge to reach out and stroke his curls. They always started out the nights folded into each other, but by morning, Fitz usually broke away and did his own impression of a hedgehog. It was cute and also convenient, as Jemma didn’t have to entangle herself every time she woke up before him, which was almost always.

 _I wonder what Fitz would crave if he was in my shoes_ , Jemma mused. _Probably that silly sandw –_

A prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella sandwich didn’t exactly sound terrible. In fact, it sounded divine.

Filled with a new sort of food-fueled adrenaline, Jemma swung herself over the side of bed and tiptoed from the room, not turning on the hall light until the door was softly shut behind her.

The kitchen floor was cold and Jemma wished she had remembered to put on socks, but it was too late now, as the recently-bought prosciutto was calling her name from the depths of the fridge. Regular sliced bread would have to do; anything fancy had already been used up, but Jemma didn’t mind. She would eat the sandwich even if she had to use a hot dog bun, of that she was perfectly sure.

The savory aroma of the prosciutto hit her abruptly, and she had to hold back a moan.

_Okay. Get a hold of yourself, Jemma. It’s just a sandwich, for Heaven’s sake._

She eagerly pulled a few chunks of the mozzarella from the fridge, tossing them unceremoniously onto the layered prosciutto before extracting a small tub of aioli and taking a whiff. A few months ago the smell of this stuff had made her sick, but now it welcomed her with open arms. She lathered it onto the sandwich generously, gladly overtaking Fitz’s preferred amount.

A prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella sandwich with enough aioli to kill a man. Perfect.

She didn’t even waste time taking it to the table. She bit in with mirth, wondering why she hadn’t appreciated Fitz’s favorite sandwich before now.

“Jem?”

Jemma whirled around, mouth still full of sandwich, to see her amused husband standing in the doorway in his blue bathrobe.

“What are you doing?” His voice was still groggy from sleep.

Moments passed as Jemma attempted to chew her mouthful of sandwich before answering, but she soon realized the futility. “I wath hungry.”

Fitz raised an eyebrow. “At three in the morning? That’s a little early, even for you, eh?”

“I can’t control when _your son_ wants to eat, Fitz.” Jemma gestured to her extended abdomen, her countenance suggesting faux exasperation. She secretly liked to throw phrases like ‘your son’ into conversation in order to see the dopey look on her husband’s face. It worked every time.

Fitz reddened. “W-well, he’s got good taste, even if his timing is a bit off.” He shuffled forward in his too-big slippers to rest a gentle hand on her swollen belly.

“He really likes prosciutto.”

Fitz made a noise of approval and leaned down with a suggestion of a kiss, but quickly stopped himself, his nose wrinkling. “And aioli, apparently. Christ, Jem, how much did you use?”

Jemma looked guilty. “Just a hint.” She leaned forward so that her belly was pushing into his. “Give me a kiss.”

“Not until you brush your teeth, woman.”

Jemma reached back to grab the sandwich, taking another bite of it just inches from her husband’s face.

“Are you thaying thih ithn’t thexy?” she said thickly through a mouthful of prosciutto. 

“It’s doing something for me, actually.”

Jemma pushed his chest lightly. “Hmph. If you won’t kith me, let me eat in piece.”

She couldn’t help but squeak in surprise as Fitz leaned forward and met her mouth with his, cupping her face lightly as she quickly responded with enthusiasm. When they finally broke away, they both looked incredibly flushed.

“Prosciutto with buffalo mozzarella just _really_ became my favorite sandwich,” Fitz laughed.

“The baby concurs, apparently.” Jemma took Fitz’s hand it placed it under hers on the left side on her belly. “Do you feel the kicking?”

The dopey look was back. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He looked at his beaming wife. “Just three more months ‘til we meet the little monkey, yeah?”

“Three more months until Baby FitzSimmons makes his grand, curly-haired appearance.”

Fitz groaned. “If you say he’ll have curly hair _one more time_ – ”

He was quickly silenced with a kiss, and an overly-peppy Jemma smiled up at him.

“Now stop talking and help me finish this. The faster it’s gone, the faster I can brush my teeth, and we can make out some more!”

The plate clattered to the floor as Fitz made a frantic grab for the second half.

"Did I mention how much I _love_ this sandwich?”

 

 

  

**Author's Note:**

> Someone PMed me asking why Jemma "talked like that", and I'd like to clarify that her mouth was full, and that's why she sounded lispy. Sorry for the confusion.   
> Thanks for reading! Fitzsimmons are just so adorable that I couldn't resist breaking my writing silence. I'd like to add more, but I'm already procrastinating studying for my finals so it may be a while before inspiration hits again.


End file.
